Under the Weather
by Riza's Cupcakes
Summary: When Riza wakes up with a cold, Roy insists on taking care of her.


Riza knew she had overslept, knew it even before she realized what had woken her: a faint knocking to the rhythm of a familiar song, barely audible above the steady rain against her window. Reluctantly, she kicked back the covers, ignoring her throbbing headache and scratchy throat. Sick or not, she had to make that knocking stop. Whoever stood outside had lost the rhythm and that would have irritated her on a good day. She dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the door, pulling a robe over her shoulders as she left the room. As she undid the locks, the knocking stopped, though the pounding in her head did not. She opened the door to see Roy leaning against an umbrella—her umbrella, though she didn't know how he had gotten it. He smiled when he saw her, but she could see concern in his eyes. "You weren't at the usual place and I was starting to get worried," he explained before she could ask what he was doing at her apartment.

"I'm just a little under the weather. Thanks for waking me." She pulled her robe closer. "Why don't you come in? I'll only take a few minutes to get ready and then we can go."

"They only place you're going is back to bed," said Roy, following her inside. "You sound terrible."

Riza shut the door as he removed his shoes. "Not today. If something were to happen, with the weather like this, I could never forgive myself."

"Which is why I'm going to stay here," he insisted, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing her forehead. "Let me take care of you for a change, Riza."

"Colonel," she said as sharply as her aching throat allowed. "I'm not sure this is appropriate."

"Hey, now," said Roy gently, reaching up to tuck Riza's hair behind her ears, "didn't we agree that rank doesn't exist here?"

She pushed his hands away. "Only when we're off duty, Sir."

He winced slightly, then put on a stern expression. "In that case, Lieutenant Hawkeye, call Headquarters and tell someone you're not coming in today," he said with an exaggerated air of authority.

"And if I refuse?" she asked, rubbing her throat.

"I suppose I could always have you written up for flouting the orders of a superior." His composure returned to normal. "But you have a fever and I suppose you could use that to your advantage, say you were delirious or something. And I'd rather just tuck you into bed and make soup."

"That does sound better than convincing you to do paperwork," she conceded. "But what if you get sick too?"

He shrugged. "Then we both caught it at Headquarters; I was just too irresponsible to call and spent the day sleeping."

"Right." She turned away and went to the phone. She dialed Headquarters and watched Roy as he carefully sorted through the cans in the pantry.

The operator answered. "Good morning. Eastern Command."

"This is Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. My code is—"

"You moved the can opener," Roy interrupted.

Glaring at him, Riza apologized and gave her code. She put her hand over the receiver while she waited for the operator to verify it. "No, I didn't. You're just not looking hard—"

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" said the operator.

"Please connect me to Colonel Mustang's office," she said, coughing into her arm.

"Please hold."

Once again, Riza covered the receiver and turned to Roy. "Found it yet?"

"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "It was in the back of the drawer."

"Exactly where it was last time," Riza replied, somewhat exasperated. It seemed that there was always something he couldn't find even though he had used it before and she was starting to suspect he did it to annoy her, just as he had with his off-beat knocking.

"He doesn't seem to be answering," said the operator, pulling Riza away from her thoughts. "Is there someone else you would like to speak to?"

"I'd like to speak with the General, please."

"Ouch. Planning on reporting me for skipping work?" Roy teased as he poured the soup into a saucepan.

Riza waved dismissively as Grumman's secretary answered. "Hello, this is Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Colonel Mustang seems to have stepped out of his office for the moment. Would you mind relaying a request for sick leave to either him or the General?"

"Very well. This is for today, I assume?"

"Yes, it is."

"I will take care of it immediately, Lieutenant. I wish you a speedy recovery."

"Thank you very much." Riza hung up and went to stand beside Roy. "Would you like some help?"

"I think I can handle soup and tea," he said, guiding her out of the kitchen. "You need rest."

She opened her mouth to protest but she knew he was right, and it was nice to hear him express his concern openly. They had hardly seen each other outside the office lately and she missed his sad smiles and stolen kisses and the way he played with her hair. "I just hate feeling useless."

"I know the feeling," he said, nodding toward the window. "Come on. Let's get you to bed." He took the robe she had draped over her shoulders and slung it over his own before scooping her into his arms. Even with her stuffy nose, she could smell his cologne and she snuggled closer to him, the rough wool of his uniform scratching her cheek. All too soon, he laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. "Don't get too comfortable," he said, and the warmth in his eyes made her heart ache.

"Roy, I—"

The kettle whistled and Roy dashed out of the room. "Hold that thought," he called over his shoulder.

Riza let her head sink deeper into the pillow and closed her eyes, letting the sounds of the rain and Roy's cursing wash over her. She thought about asking what was wrong but speaking was the last thing she wanted to do and she doubted he would hear her anyway.

"You weren't supposed to fall asleep yet," said Roy when he returned.

"I didn't." Riza opened her eyes to see him standing beside her, carrying a tray and stripped down to his boxers. She frowned. "What on earth did you take your clothes off for? I'm not feeling up for—"

"Snuggling?" he said, setting the tray across her legs and reaching up to tug at his missing collar.

Riza pushed herself up and propped her pillow against the headboard. "If you want." She picked up the spoon as Roy walked around the bed and climbed under the covers. He reached up to move a few hairs away from her mouth as she tasted the soup.

"How is it?" he asked.

"It's canned soup." She set the spoon aside and reached for the tea. "This, on the other hand," she murmured, taking a sip, "is delicious."

"It's just tea. Anyone could have made it."

Riza shook her head. "Anyone could have made the soup, but somehow you always know exactly how I want my tea."

"I suppose I do," he said proudly. "I've watched you make it often enough."

"How did you know I take it with milk when I'm sick? I think this is the first time you've seen me like this."

"No, it isn't. I lived with you, remember?" He took her free hand in both of his as she took another sip.

She looked down at him, surprised. "That was years ago. How could you possibly have remembered?"

He shrugged. "I just thought it might be useful someday. You know, back when I thought things might turn out differently."

Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away. "You mean, when you thought we might…" She raised the bowl to her mouth to avoid finishing the sentence.

"You don't have to be afraid to say it. If anyone were watching us, they would already have fairly conclusive proof that our relationship is more than it should be." He propped himself up on one elbow, looking sad.

"I suppose you're right," she said, setting the bowl on the tray and reaching over to ruffle his hair. "I just don't want to think about what could have been. We have enough to do without dwelling on choices we made a long time ago. You need a bodyguard more than you need a wife, no matter what Hughes might have told you."

"I just wish I could have both." He sat up and cupped her chin in his hand, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

"I know," she whispered, putting her hand on his as he leaned over to kiss her. She closed her eyes but it was over as soon as it started; his lips moved from hers to kiss the tip of her nose before leaning his forehead against hers. Once, this closeness would have made her heart race, but after the years spent at his side, Roy's presence calmed her instead. She preferred it that way; with her sins constantly weighing on her conscience and charged with the task of keeping him safe and sane, she needed something to ground her.

Roy pulled away and Riza tried to protest but all that came out was a squeak. He grinned at the noise and rested his head on her shoulder. "Your breakfast is getting cold."

Looking at the steam rising from the bowl, she raised an eyebrow. "I don't think cold is the word you're looking for."

"Less scalding, then," he amended as she raised the bowl to her lips once more. She smiled and finished her meal in silence, smiling occasionally as Roy caressed her arm or played with her hair. When she had finished, she leaned over to set the tray on the floor beside the bed. When she lay down once more, Roy put an arm around her. He moved his head onto her pillow and buried his face in her hair. "Hey, Riza?" he said, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Yeah?"

"You should get sick more often," Roy teased. Riza chuckled softly, but the laughter quickly became a cough. He squeezed her hand and apologized. "Maybe I should just walk you home from work instead, so you can enjoy it too."

"I'd like that," she told him sleepily, shifting so her body was pressed even closer to his. As she closed her eyes, Roy pulled his hand away from hers; she tried to protest but only a cough came out. She felt the blanket on her shoulders and his hand returned. She smiled, even though she knew he wouldn't be able to see it. "Thanks for coming over, Roy."

"Anytime," he murmured, and the sensation of his breath on her neck made her shiver.

Riza wanted to say something else, but wasn't sure just what; she opened her mouth, hoping the motion would summon the words, and yet they remained beyond her reach until she felt Roy relax beside her, his breathing deeper and steadier. It didn't matter, she decided. He already knew what she wanted to tell him, and she had already said enough to make her throat raw. Lacing her fingers through his, she buried her face deeper into the pillow. Between the sound of the rain against her window and the security she felt in Roy's arms, it wasn't long before she was asleep as well.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this old fic I decided to clean up. Feedback is always greatly appreciated!  
**


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